


Glass Parade

by JJLiberty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJLiberty/pseuds/JJLiberty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot prompt fill for abrainiac. Old fic. Sirius/Remus. Wolfstar.</p>
<p>Sirius and Remus get drunk and angsty and a little bit fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Parade

**Glass Parade**

**By JJLiberty**

“So...”

“So...?”

“So James left us with the cloak and it’s not even noon yet. Shouldn't you be convincing me to take part in one of your ridiculous pranks by now...?”

“James and Peter aren't here...”

“So what, Pads? When has that stopped you from pranking before?”

“M'just not really in the mood to prank, alright Moony...”

“Fine, I just thought that since we have nothing better to do—”

“I need a drink.” Sirius announces suddenly.

“Here, finish mine. I wasn't going to drink the rest anyway.” Remus shoves the drink into the other man’s hand.

Sirius frowns at the butterbeer in distaste. “No. I mean a _real_ drink.” 

“A _real_ drink? It’s practically still lunch time—Padfoot?” Remus is confused when he sees Sirius slip under the table without another word. “Pads, where are you going? Get out from under the table this instant. Where did you go? Padfoot, this isn't what I had in mind when I suggested a prank!”

“Shh. I need you to cover me while I sneak into the back and nick some firewhiskey. It'll only take a few minutes. Just try to distract Rosie for as long as possible. Got it?”

“Pads, I think you are much better suited for “distracting” Madame Rosmerta than I am. She'll know something’s up if I start chatting her up like you always do.”

“You're the one that wanted to do something, so we're doing something. Now are you in or not?”

“It's not going to work, Padfoot...”

“It will work. Look if you don't feel comfortable hitting on Rosie than talk about books or something. Anything. I don't care, just distract her.”

“For Godric's sake, Pads! She's a barmaid not a bloody librarian! We have nothing in common – _and will you please get out from under that cloak?! I look like a lunatic right now, talking to myself!_ ”

“No offense Moons, but most people think you’re crazy anyways...”

“Oy! That's only because I hang out with you lot.”

“No one ever forced you to.”

“Sirius...”

“ _Remus_.” 

The commanding tone sends an involuntary shiver down Remus’ spine.

Remus stumbles over his response, “Sirius, I'm not going to—! You think you can just convince me to do whatever you want just because I'm your friend...!” Because subconsciously you know I feel more towards you than if I was just your friend, Remus adds inwardly.

“Come on Rem, it's not like that.”

“Yes it is...gah I hate you right now...I can just _feel_ the puppy-eyes...I swear it's like First Year all over again...”

“But I thought you loved the puppy-eyes!” Sirius replies in a pouty tone.

“Grow-up.”

“You love them. Just admit it. You could never resist my charms.” Remus can sense the smirk in the other man’s voice and completely resents the way it all makes him feel. He can’t help it. Every time Sirius plays with his feelings like this it makes his stomach turn over with hope and lights his face on fire. He hates how Sirius can have this much control over his feelings without even knowing it.

“Ergh...I swear if you weren't hiding under that cloak I'd strangle you with it, then hide your body under it in some remote area where no one could ever find you.” Remus replies dryly, almost surprised with how calm his voice sounds.

Sirius’ voice is full of mock hurt, “To think that you would do such a thing to a dear old friend, I'm deeply wounded, Moons” After a second he refocuses on the task at hand, “But no, seriously...just do this one thing for me, yeah? I promise I'll make it up to you.”

This last comment causes Remus to snort in disbelief. But they both know he’s already sold. He could never say no to the man. “Alright, fine.”

“Hurry up though.” He adds.

“Thanks, Rem. I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” Remus replies, even though he knows Sirius has already left. 

_Well time to get to work_ , the tawny-haired man thinks before strolling casually, or as casually as the man can muster (he’s really trying to channel Sirius right now), up to the bar.

“Hello, Madam Rosemerta. You look absolutely radiant today.” Remus tries not to look at the smudge of soot on the woman’s forehead as he says this. “How is a…erm… _lovely_ woman like yourself doing these days?”

“Did Black set you up to this, Lupin?” Rosemerta replies in a no-nonsense fashion. She’s had too much experience with the Marauder’s to trust the flattery of any one of them.

“Er…no? I was just genuinely curious about your personal well-being. Can’t a regular patron of your fine establishment, ask how…how—” Remus tries not to gawk at the two cases of Ogden’s firewhiskey that were not so surreptitiously being dragged to the back room by a pair floating hands.

_Sirius is an idiot._

_Why doesn’t he just using his_ wand _?!_

_They learned_ wingardiumleviosa _back in First Year, honestly._

Rosmerta turns to see what had distracted the man. Remus tries to keep her attention, continuing where he left off, “— _HOW_ the greatest bar-maid in all of Hogsmeade is doing?”

The bar-maid gives him a cross look, trying to figure out what he’s up to. 

“Perhaps not.” Remus says flatly before changing the subject, “So…er are you interested in books, by any chance? I heard that new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ is pretty… _riveting…_ if you know…what I mean…..I mean…er—”

“Lupin, I don’t know what’s gotten into you or what your silly group of Marauders are up to but I’m not buying it. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a pub to run.”

_Sirius isn’t done yet…. **He isn’t done yet!** _

_Bloody flipping **hell**._

Well then…time for Plan B.

“ _Permoveo mancepo”_ Remus whispers under his breath just as Rosmerta is turning away for the second time. His aim is dead on as it hits a table of Slytherins, including Snape, violently turning it over and dumping three pitchers of butter beer all over those near it.

“ARGH! POTTER!” He hears Snivellus shout amidst the chaos.

Snape always blames James Potter for the misfortunes that befall him but no one, not even Snivellus, would guess that this time it’s innocent-little-old Remus Lupin that’s causing all the ruckus. You’d think by now everyone would realize that Remus is neither little or as innocent as he seems.

“ _For the love of Merlin and all that’s magical!_ What’s going on over here! I swear the Headmaster will be hearing about this if someone doesn’t explain right now!” Rosemerta shouts over the cacophony.

_Perfect._

_Now to just find Sirius._

A difficult task, Remus realizes, seeing as he’s bloody INVISIBLE.

_Nice plan, Black, you really thought this one through._

Sooner or later someone’s going to piece it together when they see the only Marauder left in The Three Broomsticks standing suspiciously in the corner of the room trying to look as though he doesn’t notice the catastrophic mess that has just erupted in the middle of the room.

Before Remus can curse Padfoot a million times over for dragging him into this mess, a silky breeze comes over him and suddenly he’s standing under James’ invisibility cloak…

Two inches from Sirius Black’s gorgeous face.

Wonderful.

No really it was wonderful.

Well not entirely, considering it was taking everything in Remus’ power to not kiss the man, but still it was wonderful, glorious torture and that had to be something right?

“Hey,” Sirius’ breath ghosted across the man’s face, forcing Remus to close his eyes and try to imagine dying puppies or Filch completely starkers.

Why did he have to have feelings for _him_ , of all people? It was his best mate, his _best_ mate, for Godric’s sake. 

Life wasn’t fair.

Sirius continued. “I took the boxes out behind the pub, just to make sure no one would spot them. I’ll need your help levitating them under the cloak though, let’s go.” He started pulling Remus in the direction of the back door.

Remus halted, tugging Sirius back abruptly. Sirius gave him a confused look. “Problem?”

“Yeah, there’s a problem. Where the hell are we taking two bloody boxes—”

“It’s three actually…” Sirius interjects.

“Fine, _three_ boxes of firewhiskey, Padfoot?”

“Er…duh, Remus. Where we always take them: Hogwarts.”

“No.”

“What do you mean _no_? You got a better idea?”

“Sirius, any idea is better than bringing the whisky back to Hogwarts. It’s midday for Godric’s sake.”

“So…I don’t see what the problem is…come on let’s go, before someone notices we took it!”

“I am not going to bring back five _billion_ cases—”

“ _Three._ ”

“ ** _FINE_** , ** _three_** _cases of bloody whisky to Hogwarts_! I’m just not, okay? I’ve already risked enough for you today.” Even as he’s saying this though, Remus knows that he’d jump off of the Astronomy Tower if Sirius asked him to…but he isn’t going to admit that to him now.

“Well do you have a better place, Mr. I-know-what’s-best?” Sirius stares at him indignantly, though his grey eyes flash playfully.

Remus thinks for a moment, trying to concentrate on good hiding spots in Hogsmeade rather than the other man’s intense gaze which is starting to affect his ability to breathe properly, before responding, “Just follow my lead.”

They wind up sitting on the outskirts of the forest bordering the Shrieking Shack. Not that Remus holds any particular fondness for the place, quite the contrary actually, but he reasons that it’s just about the last place you’d find any villager or student passerby. 

“Aw, what a downer Moons. You would take us to the Shack.”

“Look, it’s a hell of a lot better than your idea, which would end with us getting _expelled_ might I add. Plus, I never wanted to be a part of this ‘adventure’ to begin with so...stop your complaining.”

“Oh a bit touchy, aren’t we?”

Remus ignores this last comment and asks for Sirius to hand him a bottle instead.

Merlin knows he could use a drink right about now. 

He grabs the bottle, rather more forcefully than he means to from Sirius’ hand and sits down on a patch of cold ground. It’s covered with autumn leaves, a plethora of bright reds, yellows, and the occasional browns. 

Remus is so caught up in his own thoughts he barely notices Sirius staring at him intensely before turning to grab himself a bottle of whisky as well.

Sirius flops down beside Remus with a loud crunchy-shuffling sound. His breath is coming out in short bursts of white. 

“Well…at least the firewhiskey will stay cold.” He remarks to Remus, commenting subtly on his choice for them to remain outside and bear the elements.

“The bottles are charmed to remain permanently cool, Sirius. You of all people should be intimately acquainted with that fact.” Remus doesn’t know why he’s so brassed off, it’s not like Sirius has said anything offensive. Perhaps, he reasons, it’s just another way of distancing himself from the black-haired man. After all, the last thing Remus needs is to get too close to the animagus; close enough for Sirius to see that Remus has feelings for him. 

_Not that_ that _isn’t blatantly obvious already._

_Oh gods, I’m going to just_ ruin _this fucking friendship, aren’t I? It’s inevitable_ , Remus reasons bitterly.

He chugs the rest of his bottle down in a few fiery gulps. He grimaces when he’s finished, but wonders if it’s because his throat is burning or because Sirius is staring at him with an unreadable look.

“Take it easy Rem. It’s not a race.” Sirius finally says, taking a long swig from his own bottle. 

It’s almost torture watching the way Sirius’ soft, full lips wrap around the mouth of that bottle. 

Remus has to look away.

“Bugger off.” He replies sourly. He’s in no mood to be patronized by the black-haired man.

“Sorry.” Sirius’ voice sounds a bit broken.

Remus looks up at him with surprise. “What are you sorry for?” _It’s not your fault that I’m so in love with you it hurts; that I’m so in love with you, I’d rather push you away like a prat, than show you what’s really bothering me_ , Remus thinks.

“I’ve been a shitty friend lately, haven’t I?”

“Not any shittier than usual, I don’t think.” Remus replies dryly before reaching across for another bottle of firewhiskey.

“Ha, very funny…” Sirius quirks a smile, but it’s stiff and not full of his usual playfulness. He stares off into nothingness before replying in a distant voice. “Do you think that if I hadn’t moved out, he would have turned out better…that he would have chosen a better life for himself than what the world wanted for him?”

Sirius, Remus reasons, is talking about the day he ran away from Grimmauld Place and the way his brother chose that day to give himself completely over to the pure-blood dogmas and utter darkness that is the Most Noble House of Black. Sirius was asking if perhaps his brother would have had the incentive to turn to the “good-side” if only his older brother had stayed behind and taken him under his wing. The man had run away only that summer so…

“I don’t know, Sirius,” Remus answers tiredly. “Perhaps by the time you left he’d already made up his mind about where his loyalties lay. And unlike you he wouldn’t have had anywhere to turn even if he _did_ decide to change for the better. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“There’s a lot I could have done, Remus! He did have somewhere to turn… I could have brought him with me.”

“Look Sirius, I’m not saying that isn’t true, but do you honestly think he would have gone with you even if he had the choice? He’s not you. He didn’t have the luxury of being sorted into a House full of people who love and care for him; he’s surrounded by Slytherins and pure-blood fanatics who call themselves his friends but are really just dragging him into that dark pit of destruction they’re all a part of. The odds are even more against him than they ever were for you. It’s not your fault.”

“I hate them.”

“I know Sirius, we all do.”

“No I hate them, I hate them all. Voldemort, his followers, those Slytherins…my _family_.” He says this last word with such loathing and derision, that it causes Remus to shiver involuntarily. “They’re monsters, the lot of them…Taking advantage of kids who are born into families that are already disposed to their stupid, pure-blood agenda and its fucked-up rules. They don’t stand a chance against them, Rem. _Not a fucking chance_. You said it yourself…they got the odds stack up nice and high against them.” Sirius chucks his half full bottle against a nearby tree. He’s still sober enough that it actually meets its target, sending shards of glass skittering across the forest floor. That’s when Remus realizes that the bottle probably had an unbreakable charm on it, and yet Sirius still managed somehow to break it in his anger.

“Stop it, Sirius.”

Sirius, obviously feeling like breaking one bottle isn’t enough, grabs a second one and chucks it against the same tree. It explodes in a mist of amber liquid.

“Damn it, Sirius! Will you please just stop it?!” Remus steps in front of the black-haired man and promptly blocks the case of Odgen’s from view. He places his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and says more calmly, or as calmly as possible after downing two bottles of firewhiskey, “Sirius you of all people should know that the situation one is born into doesn’t determine one’s fate. It is most definitely not the end all and be all. In the end, our choices have the last say.” He tries to make eye contact with the man, even as Sirius starts to fight him off. They are both bordering on drunk at this point and Remus’ words are starting to slur slightly. “You’re perfect proof of that. _You_ beat the odds, _you_ were given a chance, and _you_ got out of it before they could get a permanent hold on you. Circumstances change, people change, you don’t know what decisions your brother will make later in life. He might just turn around. And yeah, he might not. But that’s not your fault. It’s not. It would be _his_ , because it would be his **_choice_**.” 

Sirius struggles for a second more before going limp against the slighter man. “I’d give up my place for him, you know… if I could.” His voice comes out in a dejected whisper, nothing like what Remus is used to hearing from the animagus. He lets his forehead fall on the werewolf’s shoulder; the heat of the contact explodes through Remus’ body. He has to clench his jaw and exhale slowly through his nose to calm down.

“I know.” Remus is surprised at the resolution in his own voice. “But don’t you see, Sirius? You saying that is _exactly_ the reason why there is hope for him. Because after all you’ve been through you’re capable of making the right choice, the choice to sacrifice your own life for the sake of others’. And as long as there are people like you in this world choosing to fight, there’s still a chance for him to make that choice too.” He wasn’t sure whether he was making sense anymore, but it sounded convincing enough.

“You honestly think there’s hope for my brother?” Sirius doesn’t look convinced in the least.

Remus ignores the man’s incredulous stare and speaks the first thing that comes into his head, “As long as there’s time, Sirius, there’s hope.”

It’s almost believable.

Almost.

But Remus knows that for some things in life this sentiment is painfully untrue. 

For example, all the time in the world can’t make your perfectly straight best-mate fall in love with you. 

Sometimes it’s better not to hope lest you live the rest of your life mourning a relationship you never had.

Sirius stares at Remus with another one of his unreadable expressions, before turning away. Remus almost doesn’t hear the man mumble under his breath as he reaches for another bottle, “Yeah well sometimes not even a lifetime is enough to change a person’s mind…so it’s better not to hope. It hurts less.” 

Despite the vagueness, Sirius is mirroring Remus’ thoughts almost exactly.

And that’s when he realizes that that they are no longer talking about Regulus Black. 

Instead of answering, Remus reaches for another firewhiskey, not even allowing himself to think about what Sirius might have been referring to. Unfortunately for him, he stumbles and almost falls flat on his face. 

Sirius catches him just in time.

“Woah there. Maybe you shouldn’t drink that next firewhiskey, mate. You seem a little—”

Remus’ anger suddenly flares up again, when Sirius pulls the bottle away from him. “Piss off, Sirius. And don’t you go all “ _mate_ ” on me when you’re trying to pass yourself off as my bloody mother—” Remus, who is a little more than tipsy at this point, tries to take back the bottle. Instead, it falls between the two of them and pours out all over the ground. 

Remus stares at it dumbly. “Now look what you’ve done! That was a perfectly good bottle of Odgen’s you just wasted! Not to mention the two others you donated to the evergreens over there,” Remus reaches for another bottle as he’s rambling. He’s rambling partly because he’s drunk and frustrated, but mostly so he doesn’t have to focus on Sirius. “Good thing you stole enough alcohol to kill a fully-grown hippogriff. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to drink my whisky in peace—”

What happens next catches Remus so by surprise that he completely halts mid-rant.

Sirius starts laughing.

Hysterically.

Remus stares at him indignantly. “And _what_ may I ask is so bloody funny? Please feel free to fill in the rest of the class!”

This only makes Sirius laugh harder, so hard that he’s having a difficult time standing up straight.

“You know what? This is stupid. I’m leaving.” When Sirius doesn’t even react to the slighter man’s huffy statement, Remus turns around and starts walking towards the road that leads back to Hogwarts.

He hears Sirius finally respond through his laughter, but by this time Remus is a long ways away from him. “W-wait. Rem…Remus, shit…don’t go…M’sorry…fuck…shit, Moony, come back!” 

Remus chooses to ignore his friend’s drunken pleas and downs the rest of his firewhiskey, tossing the bottle unceremoniously into the woods after he’s finished. He focuses instead on the blood pumping through his veins, carrying the alcohol straight to his heart. He imagines it acting like a fire, consuming all the anger and self-loathing trapped inside of him, reducing it to ash. He lets the rushing sound in his ears and his slow heavy breaths block out the sound of his friend’s voice.

“Moony, wait up. Merlin, what the hell’s gotten into you today?” Sirius yells as he finally catches up with the tawny-haired man.

Remus spins around, amber eyes burning holes into Sirius’ grey ones. “What the hell’s gotten—What the hell’s gotten into **_me_**?! Speak for your bloody self, mate! This was all your idea in the first place, and for what? Because you couldn’t let go of some fucking family thing you can’t change. You like to blame yourself for circumstances you can’t bloody control and then drag people like _me_ into it so that you have someone who you _know_ will feel sorry for you! Well not me anymore, Sirius. I’m not here to patronize you and I refuse to be your shoulder to fucking cry on. Frankly it’s beyond me why _anyone_ should give sympathy to a man who makes his own misery! And you know, I have enough things to cry over myself, thank-you-very-fucking-much.”

When Sirius doesn’t respond immediately, Remus continues with a cold laugh, “Do you _really_ want to know what’s gotten into me, Sirius? **_You_**. _This. ALL of this._ And it’s gotten so deep down inside of me that I have no fucking idea how to get it out!” Remus turns around to continue walking but almost walks straight into a tree. He whips around suddenly, avoiding the collision, but falling into Sirius’ arms instead. 

The tree digs into his back as Sirius pushes him up against it. “Gerroff me, Padf—”

Remus faintly registers the sound of a bottle falling to the ground before Sirius crashes their lips together. The kiss is sloppy and short, but no less wonderful. Sloppy, because both of them are more sloshed than they’d care to admit, and short, because Remus shoves Sirius away as soon as he realizes what’s happening shouldn’t actually be happening.

“What the hell are you _doing_ , Sirius!” Remus manages between ragged breaths. He can feel his face flushing with adrenaline and anger.

"I don't know...I...I just thought that—" 

"‘That’ what!? You could just _snog_ me…?!" 

"No...I just thought that's what you wanted..." 

"That that's what _I_ wanted? Meaning you didn't want it. Great. Fucking great, Sirius. Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone from now on? I won't talk to you and you won't have to talk to me. We'll pretend this never happened and we’ll just go back to being whatever-the-hell it was we were before you decided it was in my best interest to shove your tongue down my throat.”

Remus turns quickly on his heel and trudges off down the path, not daring to look back.

Sirius shouts furiously at his friend’s quickly retreating figure. “What the hell! You were the one that started it, not me. You said I’d ‘gotten into you’, or whatever poetic rubbish you used to describe your feelings for me!”

Remus feels an odd rush of embarrassment and fury when Sirius has the nerve to call his confession of love ‘poetic rubbish’. He is so offended and hurt by this statement that it takes him a second to find the right retort, something Remus has never had a problem with before.

He suddenly turns around in a blaze of anger. “Yeah… well… you know, just because I _said_ that doesn’t make you entitled to ‘try me on for size’, Sirius…e _specially_ when you have absolutely no attraction to me whatsoever!” At the conclusion of this remark, Remus turns around and stumbles off again, not caring to note how Sirius is gaining ground on him, being the more sober of the two gentlemen.

“Who said I have absolutely no attraction to you whatsoever? And who said I’m trying you on for size? I don’t need to Remus, I already know the shoe fits.”

As soon as the comment leaves Sirius’ mouth, Remus goes into a frenzy. He whips around and stares at Sirius indignantly. “ _Shoe?!_ You’re comparing me to a _shoe_ , Black? Why? Because you can walk all over me just because I love you? Nice Black, real tactful of you.”

“No. Dammit, Remus. That’s not what I meant. Will you just listen to what I’m trying to say? I’m not really good at this sort of thing.”

“No, you’re really not. You just compared me to a piece of bloody footwear. I’ll see you back at the castle, _mate_.” For the millionth time that day, Remus starts to make his way down the path again.

Sirius continues to follow him at a safe distance. “I love you...and…and you’re not a shoe.”

Remus is ready to reply with an “apology accepted” when he realizes the breadth of what his friend just confessed.

Wait, what?

The slighter man spins around in shock, about to tell the man off for lying, but instead of finding him several yards down the path like expected, Sirius is standing right in front him with Remus’ face in his hands and Remus’ lips on his lips.

And it’s all Remus can do not to fall over right then and there.

Gods he was such a good kisser.

Why did he wait so long to do this?

When they break apart Sirius leans his head against Remus’ own. “You know you’ve got complete rubbish for brains when you’re pissed, love. Sometimes I just wish you’d just listen and not have to make me run a mile just to convince you—”

“—Well I wouldn’t have walked off, if you hadn’t been _laughing_ at me for no good reason.”

“It wasn’t for ‘no good reason’. I had a _very_ good reason actually.”

“Oh and what might that be?”

“When I saw you getting all worked up over the whisky all I could think was how beautiful you looked when you were angry…and well, I don’t know, it just hit me sort of funny and I couldn’t stop laughing. I mean, I think my best-mate is beautiful, especially when he’s totally sloshed out of his mind? Who thinks that? But I did, and I do…you know? And I don’t know, after you said all that stuff I kind of just realized I didn’t want to spend another moment thinking about whisky, or family, or anything but you. Get it?”

And that’s when Remus takes Sirius by surprise and starts laughing hysterically.

“What the hell, Remus! I just poured out my heart like a bloody ponce and you decide _now’s_ the time to **_laugh_** at me?”

Remus fights out a response through the bouts of laughter that overcome him, “I’m…I’m sorry, Sirius. It’s not what you said….it’s just… just…do me one favour, okay?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Don’t ever call me a shoe again.”

“It was the liquor talking, I swear.”

“Well, how about we tell the liquor to shut up.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

And with that, Sirius takes Remus into his arms again and kisses him slow and sweet, nothing like the sloppy, short snog session from before. And as they stumble around in a vertical dance of intertwined limbs both of them fail to notice some of the other students making their way up from Hogsmeade.

Among them is none other than Severus Snape, who scowls at the sight of the two men kissing before calling out, “Ergh, and I thought the worst of my day was behind me. Get a room, you poofters.”

In an honourable effort to keep the liquor from talking, neither man says a word. 

Instead they both simultaneously raise a hand to give Snape the friendly finger.

In the end, both men are too absorbed in each other to pay much attention to the Slytherin’s reaction.


End file.
